Worst Possible Outcome
by EstellaB
Summary: Puddleglum, to his mixed pleasure and distress, finds something that he cannot possible put a Brave Face on.


**This was just a little experiment-Puddleglum is one of my favourite characters, but Lewis never gives us a chance to eavesdrop on his thoughts. I don't think. This makes me sad. Therefore, I came up with the following question: What would Puddleglum do if he found something that he couldn't put a Brave Face on? This was the result. I challenge anybody else to write an answer to that question. I can't wait to read them :D**

Now, I know that you may associate me with a youthful light-heartedness, but that is only because I am experienced at Making the Best of Things. Putting a Brave Face on it. Ask any Marsh-wiggle you know, and they will tell you the same thing, that I am too optimistic. Frolicsome, even. It's always been what's wrong with me, and I do work to conquer it, though I dare say I never shall. Puddleglum, they say; Puddleglum, you must learn to face Reality: know that the Worst Possible Outcome is also the Likeliest Possible Outcome. You ned to learn some sobriety, Puddleglum, they tell me sternly.

Well, perhaps I have finally managed it, though I am sure I will have forgotten it all by tomorrow and not have learnt anything at all. But for now, at least, I have finally found something that even I cannot possibly see the best of, and it concerns an especial Son of Adam and a particular Daughter of Eve.

They are lying next to me on the bare cold ground (and they'll catch their deaths, likely as not, and then none of this will matter) and arguing. Of course they are arguing. They always argue. I've yet to see a day, or, indeed, an hour, when they don't, and I dare say I never will. At the moment, they are arguing about the blankets. Scrubb is pointing out that Pole is thinner than him so she needs less of their blankets; she, on the other hand, is retorting that she is a _girl _so he jolly well ought to give her at least a fair share. This seems at odds with several of the arguments they've hand in the past, where Pole has argued that just because she is a _girl _doesn't mean she's any weaker, slower or more cowardly than her friend. That's the way all these quests go in the end, you know: hating the sight of each other. Pole and Scrubb seem to have reached that point already, hating each other, that is, but I dare say there's worse to come.

I am not so sure that they _do _hate the sight of each other, though. They spend most of their time arguing and contradicting and insulting, as I had always expected, but now that Pole is asleep, her hands fling out from under the blanket, and I know from previous experience what is coming next. Scrubb always leans over and tucks them back in to prevent her getting frostbite. He does. And when Scrubb, not paying attention, set his tin down on an unsteady rock the other day, Pole waited until he wasn't looking and then steadied it for him, to make sure it doesn't go flying. There are thousands of little incidents like this, that can lead me to only one conclusion: both of them, when they aren't arguing, seem rather fond of each other.

I can see my brother Mudwing shaking his head, muttering gravely that I am once again making the best of it. Deluding myself. I am not so sure, though, that it wouldn't be better if they hated the sight of each other. They will go through life bickering and quarrelling, eventually getting married to do it more conveniently (as they say Cor and Aravis did) and both of them will spend almost every minute of every day unhappy because they have argued with the other about a triviality. It's a very bad turn of events, you mark my words.

Or, I suppose, they may never marry, because they can't keep peace long enough to come to an agreement about it, and will spend their whole lives, still, bickering and quarrelling, and lonely without each other. Perhaps there are other options. One day, as unlikely as it may seem, they may learn to co-operate with each other for more than five minutes without arguing. I cannot picture this outcome, though: Pole has woken up again, and, despite Scrubb's actions of a few seconds ago, he has furiously revived the argument about the blanket. It is as if he is so pleased to see her again that he has to hide it. Or something. Most likely of all, they will one day have a disagreement about something that actually matters, a disagreement so terrible that they never speak to each other again. Since I am perfectly convinced that they would be miserable without each other, this is of course the Worst Possible Outcome. It is also the most likely.

Mudwing would be proud of me.

**Oh, forgot: don't own this, because it belongs to CSL.**

** And, by the way, that took up six pages in my notebook: I had no idea it was so short!  
**


End file.
